


A Night Like This

by Clarice Chiara Sorcha (claricechiarasorcha)



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: General Hux Is Not A Nice Person, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Kylo Ren Has Issues, M/M, Masturbation, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 22:54:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5803519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claricechiarasorcha/pseuds/Clarice%20Chiara%20Sorcha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“You are projecting this nonsense all over the ship.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Am I?” In the dark and in the heat of his arousal, his pupils were wide enough to render his eyes very nearly black. “Or perhaps I just projected to one particular area.”</i>
</p><p>Kylo Ren wants attention. Hux reluctantly gives it to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Night Like This

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what I'm doing here. But I saw a video on my tumblr dash earlier of a scene from _Girls_ where Adam Driver was doing something similar to this, and...well. Bugger it. A hard and fast fic about the shit Hux has to put up with.
> 
> I am so sorry.

The first few times it happened, he had put it down to an array of perfectly sensible reasons: the unavoidable stress of command, the distinct lack of restful sleep that implied, and the continual low-level irritation that came from living in close quarters with Kylo Ren. Taking all these together, it seemed unreasonable to assume any other cause.

And yet – the third or fourth time, something else became dreadfully clear to him. The more he considered it, the worse it seemed that he had not recognised it earlier. These… _fantasies_ , these strange and over-sexualised images that came to mind both unbidden and unexpected, they were never from _Hux’s_ point of view.

They were always through the eyes of Kylo Ren.

The details varied: the scene, the time of day, the props that were used in increasingly creative and alarming ways. But the most basic premise of it never changed. Always it was Kylo Ren and always it was General Hux, the former beneath the latter and delighting in whatever degradation was rained down upon him. More often than not Hux remained fully clothed throughout: always the _General_ , never just a man. And Kylo Ren’s attire ranged from full armour to nothing at all; on his feet on his knees on his back; often he would protest his rough treatment, but at other times he would welcome it, crawling on his belly across the floor like a dog begging for his master’s forgiveness.

When Hux woke this time he lay on his back in the dark, gaze fixed upon the ceiling though there was little enough there to distract him. The most recent images had been seared onto his brain: Kylo Ren, staring up at him from his feet, shivering and naked, wrists and ankles bound. But even in so vulnerable a position his slurred words had been mocking, demanding, as perfectly and utterly childish as the man himself.

Kylo Ren’s low voice had never held much authority; it was too strange by its turn of phrase, in the stilted accent, to be suited to either command or grand speech. And yet: it forced all who heard it to _listen_. Hux might have envied him that, had he not learned long ago the secret of a good demagogue.

_Even as you bring them in with one hand, let them see the sword in the other._

Though the uniform was fresh, unworn and perfectly turned out, he still took the greatcoat from its hook at the far end of the cupboard. It gave his shoulders width, and made his steps just heavy enough that his stalking the corridors at so early an hour would not be taken as trivial.

Yet he saw very few actual people on his way towards Kylo Ren’s chambers. Many of the ship’s crew and troop complement would be sleeping, given they were deep into the night phase of the forced circadian cycle, and in the middle of a shift at that. Still, the closer he came to the quarters, the less he considered the opinion of others. This was the sort of issue best not advertised to the entire ship.

 _Unless they’ve already seen it for themselves_.

Kylo Ren had never been the most subtle of creatures, certainly.

One jab of the comms unit with a gloved thumb, and Hux stood back to see if it would summon the one inside. A moment later, and then: the faintest sensation of something _pressing_ against his mind. With an irritated snarl, he waved a hand near his temple, as if he might actually dispel the Force by doing so. From that alone he knew Kylo Ren to be both present, and only awakening from sleep; when Kylo Ren was fully conscious, Hux would but rarely feel his habitual probings at the back of his mind.

“Kylo Ren.” He did not raise his voice. He never wasted such energies when there was no reward in doing so. “I know you’re awake. Let me in.”

For a long moment, there came no answer. Lips pursed, Hux moved to key the override. He’d never tried it on Kylo Ren’s quarters; he was almost curious to know if this was the one place where Snoke would allow his one of his highest commanders to be locked out.

Then the door slid back into the wall with a soft _swish_ , and the darkness yawned open before him.

The moment he crossed the threshold, it slid closed again, plunging him into total darkness. Before he could command the lights turned up, a red glow began at the seams of the room; its faint heat resembled emergency lighting, but burned just a little softer. With a frown, Hux turned, eyes skipping in quick analysis of his surroundings. The small living area gave no sign of Kylo Ren: in fact, its austerity spoke of _no_ occupant. Hux could see no decoration, no personal item, no discarded article that would have spoken to the personality or even presence of the person the quarters had been assigned to.

Then, with the suddenness of earthshock: a noise, from across the room. Again Hux turned, eyes narrowed in the manner of a great cat about his hunt. Another door slid open even as he watched, presumably to the bedchamber itself. With an explosive snort, Hux turned back towards the main door.

“General.”

The voice came strong across the distance between them, unmarred by the filters and distorter of the ridiculous mask. It traced down his spine like strong fingers, held him in place – Hux had seen others brought to such a state by Kylo Ren’s Force grip, but he did not believe Ren exercised that ability now.

 _I do not need to_.

Hux stalked across the room in four long strides, halted only when he crossed into Kylo Ren’s bedchamber. The lights burned just as dim here, but in a dull yellow rather than the red of the outer quarters. It made it no less peculiar to see Kylo Ren lighted in such a fashion, upon his back without mask nor robes nor any clothing at all. One leg dangled from the bed, the other propped up against the wall; the narrow chest heaved with every laboured breath, one hand fisted about the angry red flush of his standing cock.

Hux stood very still. Then he took in a very long breath through his nose, let it go on an equal count. Then, and only then, did he speak.

“You are projecting this nonsense all over the ship.”

“Am I?” In the dark and in the heat of his arousal, his pupils were wide enough to render his eyes very nearly black. “Or perhaps I just projected to one particular area.”

It took all of his not-inconsiderable restraint not to simply turn on one polished heel and storm out of the room. _I am a general of the First Order. This is my ship_. “Well. At least then I know my personnel are getting the rest that they require in order to do their jobs,” he said, and arched one pale eyebrow high. “Which is a concept I am not at all surprised to find is alien to you.”

When Ren laughed, it arched his back slightly; his too-lean muscles rippled from groin to collarbone. “To be in peak form, one must understand how to relax the body and mind entire.”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days.” Dry as dust, the words should have been as arousing as a lecture about the old trading laws of the Republic. Ren’s hips made a low thrust at their end, stuttering and demanding. As the action drew his eyes downward, Hux permitted himself a dire frown. Even had there been doubt about the source of his peculiar dreams, this would have dispelled them. Before now, he would have said the dreams had rather grandiose delusions about the size and length of Kylo Ren’s cock. He now had evidence to suggest otherwise.

And now Ren sighed, thumb circling the place where colourless fluid pearled at its head. “Perhaps you should do the same, General,” he said, voice too strange and strangled to become the purr he apparently meant it to be. “Come lie down beside me, and let me be your master.”

“You idiot child.” He spoke with frigid edge, harsh as the endless winter outside Starkiller base. Instead, it was if he had only applied heat to Ren’s mad mindfire; a jolt rocked through him, his hand only moving faster. Grimacing, Hux passed a hand back through his hair, disgusted enough not to even care at the mess it made. “What is _wrong_ with you?”

His smile was as crooked, lopsided as the rest of his oversized features. “I believe the troopers are making a list.”

“Even if they made one each there wouldn’t be enough lists to encompass all that is wrong with you, Kylo Ren.”

Still he worked his cock, eyes fixed and staring. Had he been a lesser creature, Hux might have found it alarming; he had seen lizards who blinked more frequently.

And now he blinked himself, fiercely; it made no difference to the sprawling tableau before him. Turning away, he spoke with a careful and cold enunciation. “I am returning to my quarters. I would appreciate that you do _not_ project any more of this idiocy in my direction.”

“Leave your greatcoat.”

Incredulous, he could barely keep himself from spluttering his reply. “ _What_?”

“Your greatcoat.” Kylo Ren rarely smiled, or so Hux imagined from the few times he had seen him unmasked. The pure peculiarities of it now spoke somewhat to why he perhaps chose not to, even as he added with a child’s selfish unconcern, “I want it.”

“Oh, and shall I take your cowl and cloak in return?”

“If you wish it.” When he laughed, it gurgled low in his throat, too strange by half to be sexy. “I’d like it. Imagining it wrapped around you. Don’t wear any clothes under it. I want to be able to smell you later.”

Without any conscious awareness of his own body, Hux stalked close, loomed over him. The scent rose strong: sweat and musk and something strongly medicinal; the slick over his cock, probably. Swallowing hard on bile, Hux ignored the way his heart beat loud enough to make it impossible to hear his own voice.

“I was warned from the beginning you had the temperament of an overindulged child.” The shaking of his hands forced them into fists beneath the hang of the argued-over coat. “I have put up with a great deal from you, Kylo Ren. But this is too far.”

“Why?” How he could blink those too-large eyes and look so damn _young_ , even with his hand still furiously beating himself off, made no logical sense to Hux’s mind. “Is it because this isn’t about what _I_ want?”

“Excuse me?”

And he grinned, too wide; it seemed fit enough to split his mad head in two. “ _You_ want this.”

The flush of his skin burned, as if he’d been scalded by a faceful of boiling water; his head filled with pressure, release valve too tight to break. “How _dare_ —”

“But you _do_.” And he looked away, eyes closing, tilting his chin up in coital bliss. “You can do what you want to me, like this. I won’t say no.”

In the silence that fell like an executioner’s measured blow, it seemed as though only Kylo Ren existed; Hux was but a soundless shadow to his laboured breathing, and the slick movement of fingers on hard flesh.

“Anything you like,” he added, almost thoughtful. “I need it.”

Even when Hux took a slow and measured breath, his head felt so light as to be almost entirely almost without oxygen. “So.” His voice cracked in a way it hadn’t since long-ago puberty. He ignored it. “ _So_. I could tell you to take those fingers of yours, shove them in your ass. You’d do that.”

They slid in with such ease, that he must have done it earlier. Almost as if hypnotised, Hux watched them move in, and then out; the rhythm of it might have been soothing, if not for the way Ren watched him: curious, demanding, _hungry_.

“You deviant fool,” he said, very hoarse. Ren shrugged his shoulders as best he could, given the position he had assumed.

“Yes, well.” Angling his wrist, he let out a low groan, added, “I am not the one watching.”

“Shut up.” And, before he had quite considered the consequences, “Do you want my cock?”

The gleaming smile, misshapen and leering, told Hux the idiot had chosen to take him at his word. Resisting the urge to strike forward, to take his chin between harsh fingers and rip his tongue out at the root, Hux hissed his next words.

“ _Answer me_.”

And Kylo Ren closed his eyes, blissful. “I want it wherever you would wish to put it.”

“I wouldn’t touch you for all the credits in the Empire.” And he couldn’t even be entirely sure that he meant it, even as the words he’d bit back upon for too damned long poured from between whitened lips. “You’re _filth_. You’re nothing but a slave to the old ways, a rabid attack dog Snoke is too lazy to muzzle. You’ll destroy yourself long before you ruin anything of real value, and that’s the only reason he keeps you.”

A long, shuddering moan; the fingers, slick and crooked, disappeared in, stayed there in tremulous pause. The hardening in his own trousers was easily ignored. Hux had been trained – had been _disciplined_ – in all manner of deprivation at the Academy. In times of war, there were always more matters of import than those of a weak and wilful body.

“If you won’t touch me,” Ren wondered aloud, a dangerous glint in his eyes, “what would you use instead?”

The words came to his tongue with such ease that he did not even recall thinking of them first. “That idiot weapon of yours.” Even through his gloves, he could feel the nails of both hands digging crescent-moon marks into his damp palms. “How would it feel, do you think? Just shoved in there. Nothing easy, nothing gentle. Cold, too.” And now he snorted, shifted his weight just a little. “Or do you already know?”

Had he not known better, Hux might have assumed Ren no longer listened; upon his narrow bed he now rolled his hips in an increasingly erratic pace, head back and hands white-knuckled, breath gasping and harsh.

Again, Hux had trouble equating this brazen creature with even the temperamental wraith who so terrorised the corridors and landing bays of the _Finalizer_ , and Starkiller base itself. Hux had but rarely seen him without the ostentatious helmet; even then he had wondered at the apparent youth of him. It had become somehow only worse. In this Kylo Ren was nothing more than an overly dramatic adolescent, grasping at his cock and writhing on his sheets, demanding attention from everyone around him.

“Would it hurt, do you think?” he asked at last, not really caring about the answer.

And of course, Ren surprised him. “It always hurts.” The hand moved again, drew a hissing breath from between wide lips. “You can’t make it any worse.”

“Can’t I?” So close, now, Hux could taste his breath. He found it surprisingly fresh, given the state of the rest of him. Shifting his weight, bent forward from the waist with hands now tightly clasped at the small of his back, Hux searched the flushed and straining face. It could have been dangerous to be so close to one so unpredictable, with strength so very beyond any means of rational control. But then Hux had seen all too well that distance was no real deterrent for Kylo Ren.

A cascade of images worked a kaleidoscope through his mind, as if in answer to the unspoken thought. Hux set his jaw. No deterrent, indeed.

And still he remained close enough that their lips almost touched. Every word now was whispered, and upon the charged air he felt each one shudder through the body spread out before him.

“If I wished it, I could break you.” With furious force of will, he bit back on the urge to reach out, to trace his lips with false tenderness. “But you still have use, yet.”

The feral light in his eyes only made him seem ever younger. “To you?”

He shook his head, close to pitying. “To the Empire.”

“The Empire is fallen.”

“The Empire is _rising_.”

So easily the words of the zealot came from his lips, well-trained and true. The throaty laugh it earned grated like sand over his frayed nerves, and Hux did not need to look to know Ren’s hand fought to bring himself to utter release. Searching his eyes, he could not decide what he hoped to find. Despite the glaze of them, the blown-wide pupils, Hux saw nothing but awareness: the self-knowledge of one who, having jumped long ago, is falling still, and can see nothing but the ground rushing up to meet him.

“ _Come_ ,” he said, simple. And he did: spurts of white, stark even against his pallid skin. It lasted too long; already he wished to leave, and badly at that. But he had trained for such: for the moments of war and command that were the most unpleasant, tedious, _necessary_. Hux remained wordless as he watched the boneless relaxation take him over, at last. Kylo Ren, at rest. It was something a clear majority of the _Finalizer_ ’s staff would never believe possible.

With both hands, fingers aching, he adjusted the collar of his greatcoat as he straightened, turned away. Only upon stepping out through the door did he hear Kylo Ren one last time. He could not be sure if the words were spoken, or just carefully placed upon the very surface of his mind.

“Sweet dreams, General.”

He scowled, faced away from his own quarters, and towards the bridge. With the upcoming strike on the Hosnian System so very close, it wasn’t as if he had planned on much sleep.

Hux knew how to go without.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] A Night Like This](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7335259) by [sisi_rambles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sisi_rambles/pseuds/sisi_rambles)




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